My favorite museum

Home for Thanksgiving was great– time spent with our families and a much-needed recharge from life in the city. If it wasn’t so freaking cold in Michigan in November I would have taken some more landscapes… I guess I better work on toughening up to the weather though. We had a most delicious Thanksgiving meal with my grannnie and grandpa, two of the most interesting people I know.

Well, not as "interesting" as this guy...

My grandpa has a museum in his basement, a perfect example of a modern-day Wunderkammer— a cabinet of curiosities. His basement is the first museum I ever visited and is still my favorite. It is a collection of collections, though the bulk of it revolves around World War II (in which my grandpa proudly fought for home and country).

I had to laugh when I asked my grannie if we could sneak down to take some pictures and her only response was “make sure you turn some lights on down there…” I have had many guided tours of the basement (and so has Pat) so we showed ourselves around. Bullets, marbles, Nazi stuff, canes, beer steins, photos, pins, rocks… the list goes on and on.

My grandpa also has a HUGE collection of little figurines he cast and painted:

Love that mustache!

There is a story (or two…) for each of the items in his collection. My grandpa’s museum reminds me about the importance of objects. The “stuff” of our lives carries a narrative, builds memories and can mark our life travels (both physical and emotional). Grouping these objects adds further meaning– a well-curated exhibit can open your mind to new ways of thinking, to make connections you’d never made before. I love museums because they are like a big, 3-D, tactile storybook– one you can read a million times and still say at the end of it “huh, I didn’t notice that last time!” That’s what my grandpa’s museum is to me 🙂

brrrrrrr

Some day I will tell you the story about the lake in my grandpa’s back field that mysteriously disappeared in the night.